Pants
by CodeNameTargeter
Summary: In which Inyri's choice of pants causes trouble and Wes Janson is his usual flyboy self.


**Title:** Pants

**Author:** CodeNameTargeter

**Rating:** PG-13

**Timeframe**: Post-SoA but pre HoT

**Characters:** Inyri Forge, Wes Janson, Hobbie, Tycho, Wedge

**Genre:** Humour with some romance

**Keywords:** The title says it all: pants. And drinking.

**Summary: **In which Inyri's choice of pants causes some trouble.

**Notes:** This fic is based off a conversation I had with my best friend Dustin. It's been sitting around in my folder of fics for awhile and I just got around to typing it up last night as Myri's insistence. There is drinking. There are references to sex. And there are pants.

_It was all because of her pants. If she had turned down Wes's invitation to go to the bar with the other boys for a drink, they wouldn't have had that ridiculous conversation. Her choice of pants hadn't helped either…_

They were going to a slightly higher class bar tonight and so Inyri had dressed accordingly. Her plain black flightsuit was fine for a cantina like DownTime but not for a place like Calina's; the bar they were going to tonight. The New Republic had wanted to honour the Rogue pilots in someway after they helped defeat the latest Imperial warlord. The government's idea had been a banquet that would have required dress uniforms. The Rogues' idea had been a night of free drinks. This bar was a compromise.

So here they were, two hours later, sitting around a table and attempting to look somewhat civilised as Wes told about Lieutenant Kettch and his exploits. Inyri was seated between Tycho and Hobbie at one table with Wes and Wedge across from her. Iella and Winter had left their seats empty for the time being to talk with some high-ranked Republic official.

"I think you're forgetting who ultimately won that battle of pranks, Wes," Wedge said with a grin. "And who has the holo to prove it?"

"Hey! It's not my fault that lowly but charming lieutenants like myself don't have all the resources that you do," Wes grumbled good naturedly.

Hobbie smiled mournfully and clapped Wes on the shoulder. 'At least that nice Lieutenant approved of your rear end."

"Did you ever get your pants back?" Inyri asked with a grin.

"Nope. They're probably hanging on Shalla's wall as a tribute to my magnificent bare arse-"

Wedge smacked him lightly over the head. "if you ever get married to some woman who has no tolerance for your pranks, I'll have no sympathy for you."

The pilot put on a mock sad face. "I'm hurt, Wedge." His eyes wandered for a moment before fixing upon Inyri. "Forge, what's up with your pants?"

Inyri felt her jaw drop open in shock. "What?"

"Your pants… they've got a zipper on the side instead of the front," Wes clarified. "Aren't zippers supposed to be in the front?"

"Why are you looking at my pants, Janson?" she asked, attempting to get to brain to catch up to whatever the crazy pilot in front of her was thinking or planning.

Tycho smirked. "She's got a point, Wes. Why are you looking at her pants?"

"It never hurts to stay informed about these things, Tycho."

"The fabric in the front is all one piece so they put the zipper on the seam," Inyri said cautiously, blinking several times.

Wes grinned. "Huh. Never would've guessed that."

'Since when do you care about women's fashion, Wes?" Hobbie asked.

"If you don't know these things, you could find yourself in a very bad position, Hobbs. What if you're trying to get a girl with those pants on undressed while your eyes are otherwise occupied and you can't figure out how to get her pants off? You'd look like an idiot!" the pilot replied with a straight face.

Inyri felt her face start to turn red. Grabbing a few ice cubes from the glass of water in front of her, she chucked them at Wes before downing a shot of Corellian liqueur whose name she couldn't recall. "And what are the odds that you'll pick up some girl in a bar with the same pants as me?"

"Quite small," he admitted, "But it's better to be safe then sorry."

"Right, well make sure you undo this nifty little hook and eye at the top of the zipper too," she said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes.

Wes mimed recording the information into an imaginary datapad. The entire table laughed and the matter was dropped.

Three hours and an incredibly large amount of alcohol later, the pilots were all in various stages of drunken stupor. Sometime during the evening, Inyri had ended up half lying on Wes on the opposite side of the table that she had started on. A handful of pilots had already left for the night. Everyone from their table was still there. Although the pilots were in fancier clothing then usual, they were just as drunk and happy as they had originally wanted to be without having to pay.

Pilots: 1. New Republic: 0

"I think I may want to head home," Inyri said with a groan, trying to sit up as a waitress threw them yet another dirty look.

"Ooo, good idea," Wes said. "Hobbs, you coming?"

The Raltiiran shook his head. "Nah, I'll stay and keep an eye on these four."

"Right," he replied with a nod. Turning to Inyri, he half bowed and offered his arm. "May I escort you home, Miss Forge?"

"Oh, but it's so terribly out of your way," she replied with a grin as she took the offered arm. Both pilots lived on the same floor of an apartment complex where many NR pilots lived.

The two walked without much talking except for laughing whenever they got strange looks, one of them stumbled, or both of them stumbled.

"So how much did you drink tonight?" Wes asked randomly as they approached the building.

"Too much apparently," Inyri replied dryly. "I'm going to be worshipping painkillers tomorrow."

"Light weight," he teased before stumbling and almost falling flat on his face. "Okay, maybe not."

She punched in the access code for their building and summoned the lift to take them up. "If I'm a light weight, you must be one too. I drank about as much as you and Hobbie." The lift came and the two stepped on, hitting the top floor.

In her drunken state, Inyri forgot what she had learned her first day living in the building: never lean against the lift wall nearest the doors or else you get thrown across the tiny room. As the lift started moving, Inyri was thrown across straight into Wes. His hands grabbed her waist to steady her.

"Whoa there, Forge. I'm not that drunk yet."

"Shove it up your arse, Janson," Inyri muttered.

"I'm just joking, Inyri! Actually, you can stay here as long as you want."

"Does that mean you'll carry me home if I pass out?"

Wes shrugged. "If I'm not passed out already."

The lift stopped on a floor a third of the way up but no one got on. As it started upwards again, Inyri was thrown even closer to Wes, pressing their bodies tightly together.

"I could get used to this," the pilot remarked with a smirk.

"You are such an insufferable prick sometimes," she muttered. "My opinion of you isn't that high."

Impulsively, he leaned down and kissed her. Startled, she pulled back at first before deciding that kissing Wes wasn't so bad after all. Her arms linked behind his neck and one hand pulled his head down even more. Before she knew it, their positions were reversed and Wes had her pinned against the lift wall.

"Force, do I love being drunk," he whispered hoarsely when they broke for air.

"Yeah, I think I might like it too," Inyri whispered in reply, dragging him towards her apartment as the lift doors opened. Wes kissed her deeply again and she found herself shoved up against the wall again. Blindly, she felt around the wall for the keypad to gain access to her apartment. It took her four tries to enter it correctly. She broke away from him as she finally heard the device _ping_ its acceptance of her code.

"What's wrong?" he asked, obviously taking her actions completely the wrong way.

"Do you really want to do this in the hallway?" she asked in reply with the tinniest bit of sarcasm creeping into her voice.

"Ooh. Right."

As they moved into the room, kissing one another frantically, Wes's hands moved down and began to fumble with her pants. She felt them become much much looser as he deftly unhooked and unzipped them.

"See?" he breathed into her ear, his hands already busy elsewhere. "I can be a good student."

Inyri gasped with shock as his mouth found a sensitive spot. It took a few seconds before she was able to form any words. "Maybe you just had a good teacher."

_Oh yeah. It was definitely all because of her sithspawned pants. She was never going to explain over a drink just exactly how her pants worked; especially to a pilot._


End file.
